


Recalibrate

by missmaryr (mbmatthews1)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1255705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mbmatthews1/pseuds/missmaryr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Reformat. Glit feels a constant emptiness in his spark he can't explain. Soundwave knows, but won't tell him why. Some of the Autobots suspect. What will happen when Glit finds out where his spark came from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I only own Transformers in my daydreams.

"What part of 'NO' didn't you understand?" the blue Decepticon feline shouted at his black counterpart. "When I feel like getting my seals broken, I'll tell you. Now get out of my med-bay and leave me alone!"

Ravage whined, backing away with his head down, but despite his apologetic posture, he sent a com full of both need and anger. Glit was lonely. Ravage was lonely. The only one close to their size and make was the hated Autobot cassette Steeljaw. Soundwave approved. Why shouldn't they interface?

The Decepticon medic sighed. "Come back tomorrow and if there's not an emergency, I'll give you a massage." Ravage straightened, giving out a purr. During a massage or polish Glit usually overloaded his fellow cassette, and that left Ravage relaxed and content. "Not tonight. I'm tired." Despite himself, Glit smiled as Ravage trotted off. He'd finally patched up the last of the wounded and sent them off to rest in their quarters. He wanted the washracks and his berth, in that order.

Instead of heading for the common washracks, Glit used the one in the medbay. The solvent felt wonderful, cleansing the grime and dried energon on his frame. He only wished it could clean the strange emptiness inside him. He felt tired enough that he would recharge without the help of either Soundwave or high grade. For that reason, and because his would-be lover might try to pressure him if he went to the quarters he shared with Soundwave and the other cassettes, he chose the berth in the isolation room. As he drifted into recharge, he wondered again who he was before Soundwave and Shockwave put his spark in this frame.

He onlined slowly, enjoying the feeling of a good, defragmenting recharge. His good mood evaporated when he saw Soundwave standing just inside the door. He swung off the berth. "Yes, master?"

"Glit: did not return to quarters. Ravage, refused again. "

"I promised him a massage if the medbay doesn't get overwhelmed today. Hook's on call after first shift. That's contact, isn't it?" He enjoyed the massages as much as Ravage did; afterward they could curl together and simply enjoy being close.

Soundwave sighed. "Not enough. Glit: isolating again. Needs connection. Come and dock if need after meeting Ravage. "Tentacles reached out and touched Glit gently. Glit shoved them off and moved past him to the door. Swiftly, the tentacles wrapped around him. The medic did not struggle. "Glit. Why refuse Ravage? Need connection outside docking, outside work. "

Glit drew in air through his filters and blew it out slowly. Why couldn't Soundwave understand? Wasn't he supposed to be a telepath? "Ravage and I are opposites," Glit said. As he spoke, Soundwave's tentacles slipped into gaps and lightly rubbed. Glit relaxed into the offered comfort, letting the tentacles support him. "He kills, I heal. He comes to me covered in the energon he sheds, when I'm covered in the energon from mechs I repair. He hides in shadow and I stay where any mech can find me."

"Ravage and Glit, serve Decepticon cause, provide needed services, " Soundwave pointed out. "Ravage, Glit, same size, same make. Both mine, so can trust. Both lonely. "

"He's lonely because there's no one he can trust but us and the other cassettes. I'm lonely because part of me is missing." The tentacles released the blue medic as he turned to look at his creator, his weight back on his own pedes. "Tell me who I was, Soundwave! Tell me where I came from. I need to know!"

Soundwave looked down at his cassette head cleaner. "Glit, created from dying mech. Otherwise, waste of strong spark, needed skills. Better as cassette."

Glit slumped. "That doesn't explain anything," he said quietly, accepting that Soundwave would never tell him more. Everyone else he asked claimed not to know more. Only Shockwave knew besides Soundwave. Shockwave remained on Cybertron, and if Glit never saw him again, it would be far too soon.

Someone called for a medic. Soundwave left as Glit hurried into the medbay where two grunts hauled a third onto a medical berth. The third mech's arm hung wrong. As he climbed onto the berth to look at the injury, Glit swore he'd find his past one way or another. Then he put his mind on his work.

The day wore on, as patients came in. Between them, Glit restocked his toolboxes for the next raid. Frenzy and Rumble came in to get some dents worked out after a brawl and brought him some energon. Finally, toward the end of his shift, Skywarp peeked in, covered with glue. Glit groaned. "Don't tell me. Just get over here. "He got out the solvent. "You owe me big this time, Skywarp." The purple and black Seeker hunched his shoulders as the medic cleaned him up, removing the evidence of Skywarp's latest prank.

"The usual, then?" Skywarp ventured, when Glit finished.

"Yeah. You know where to leave it. Now get out before someone sees you in here." Skywarp nodded and warped out. Glit put the solvent away, just before Ravage padded in. The spy rubbed against his fellow cassette and purred. Glit checked the time and commed Hook," You're on call."

"Yeah, get some rest, kid," Hook told him gruffly. Glit walked off with Ravage, looking forward to a somewhat peaceful evening.

_He stood in grey nothingness. Voices called him, pulled him, but there was no direction, only longing, only the desperate need to find the owners of those voices. But no matter how he ran, how he called, how he commed, he could not find them, and he knew it was his fault they were lost…._

The medic catapulted to awareness. His chassis burned while warnings flashed in his processor that he was overheating, only to fade as the familiar sights of Soundwave's quarters calmed him and allowed his his systems to slow down to normal . Ravage whined on the floor by the berth. Glit looked down at him, puzzled, until the black cassette sent an image of tumbling down while Glit thrashed on the berth. Heavy footsteps preceded Soundwave's entrance. He knelt by the berth. Without argument, the cassette head-cleaner folded and went into Soundwave's chest.

The next day Starscream stumbled in to get some dents out and told Glit "This place is going to be busy in a few days," which meant another raid for energon. Knowing he'd need some decent sleep, the medic waited until after his shift and found the energon wine Skywarp owed him. Rumble and Frenzy hauled him to his berth that night after he started singing, to the entertainment of the other Decepticons in the rec room.

In the morning, Soundwave projected disappointment. Glit didn't care.

He had his gear ready when the announcement went out . "Stay here," Soundwave instructed when they reached the power plant. He sent reminders of Glit charging back at the last moment, barely making their lines in time to join the retreat, and the two times when Ravage and Buzzsaw needed to find him because he missed the call. "Glit needed. Do not go into danger. Let wounded come to you."

"All right, all right," the medic grumbled. But within a cycle Laserbeak got a hole in his wing, not far from Glit. The medic raced out and got a patch on the hole. He saw someone else go down and told Laserbeak to go on. "I just need to stop the bleeding and get back, " he assured the bird cassette. He got the last leak sealed just as the next shout for help rang out. He got one com from Laserbeak . "I'm busy, come find me," he sent back, and concentrated on his core function.

In the middle of the violence and noise, Glit's world narrowed to the next patient. He stopped bleeding, patched holes, teased metal and dirt from wounds and shoved parts back where they belonged. He ignored danger, disregarded faction, and focused saving lives. Created to heal, doing his core function gave him a fierce joy- knowing that each mech he saved defeated Death, his first and worse enemy. That helped him deal with the still grey forms left when the enemy won.

More than once, he'd missed the call to retreat because of a wounded mech. He'd finish, hide, and contact Soundwave to be taken back. Someone always came because they needed him. He had to leave the patient behind. Glit carried no weapons, and cassettes, by definition, had to be small enough to fit in a carrier mech chest plates. The cassette head-cleaner couldn't exactly move or carry a normal grunt. He could only give them a chance to survive.

"Glit, come now," Soundwave commanded through the com. "Sending Buzzsaw to bring."

The Decepticon medic cursed. He was wrist-deep in a chassis, looking for the source of a gushing leak. The mech was off-line , but if Glit could just get to that line-there! He got it sealed before he threw a temporary patch over the hole in the mech's chasis. Finally he threw supplies into his toolbox, sending a testy, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Sealing and securing his toolbox to his hips, he took off even as he heard the shout to retreat.

Two mechs, yellow and red, grabbed him. "What the frag!" he screamed. The Autobots always left him alone once they knew he only repaired, never attacked. He'd fixed these two more than once. As the mechs forced stasis cuffs over his forelimbs, he bellowed, "Let me go, let me go!" He sent a frantic appeal through his com and got a prompt response as the bird cassette doze on the yellow mech. The red one shoved Glit down and fired, forcing Buzzsaw back even as jets arrived. The largest landed. Glit saw Ravage leading other Decepticons their way as the Autobots loaded his former patient, but the yellow mech grabbed and threw him in the jet after his patient. He heard Buzzsaw shrieking and Ravage yowling with rage, but the sounds faded away as he landed in the jet. "Fine thanks I get for saving your life, Autobot," he snarled at the still form.

"And what would old Buckethead say when that flying terror told him whose life you just saved?" the jet asked and took off. Glit almost landed on top of his patient.

"Scrap," he muttered, as he took in the black and white coloring and the doorwings.

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken by the Autobots, Glit thinks they might be able to tell him what he needs to know.

In the jet he got a com from Soundwave. His master sent a comprehensive reprimand about not following orders, ending with, "Too close to Autobot lines, hostage to prevent capture of Prowl. " Glit felt like so much scrap and that came over the com to his master. "Glit, much missed," Soundwave added. "Hook : angry. Grunts, unhappy. Will retrieve. Five Autobots taken, exchange soon. "He paused. " Limit speech with Autobots." Worry came over with that last com, and Glit wondered why.

It was Glit's first experience as a passenger in any kind of airship, and he hated every second of it. The moment the jet touched ground and opened up, Gilt jumped out, eager to get on solid ground. He forgot about the stasis cuffs in his hurry and wound up sprawled at the feet of one of the mechs that captured him. The red mech snorted in amusement and picked him up to carry him to the medbay.

He hated the process that followed even more. Within the next few joors, he endured being searched, with his com off-lined. Compared to what Autobot captives endured, he got gentle treatment, but he still found the process humiliating. He said nothing until the yellow mech opened one of his toolboxes. Each tool fit his servos perfectly. "Those are specialized tools, you idiot! I've repaired both of you more than once with those. Leave them alone before you break them!" If he lost them, it would take forever to replace them if they were replaced at all. He struggled.

"We have to search for weapons," the red mech said as he held Glit back.

"Stop, Sunstreaker," came a tired voice. The three looked over to see Prowl sitting up. Ratchet came in, attracted by the commotion, and produced a wrench. Prowl lay back down hastily. "Ratchet, would you examine Glit's equipment?" The red and white medic took the toolbox, shoving Sunstreaker out of the way. The medical tools looked like toys in Ratchet's much larger servos but he treated them with great care.

"I can't let you keep these, "the Autobot medic informed Glit as he repacked the toolbox. "Too many of them can be used as a weapon. I'll keep them locked in here, with my equipment. " The medic left with the equipment in his hand.

Glit hunched his shoulders and blew air out of his intakes. "Maybe I should have left you when Soundwave called me," he grumbled, and sent the twins a sour look.

"I do not wish to sound ungrateful, "Prowl stated, "but I admit to wondering why you did not. " With some care the Autobot second in command pushed himself to his elbow to look down at the feline medic.

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. He picked Glit up and put him on the berth next to Prowl's. "We heard you got into trouble not too long ago, fixing one of us. That's why we grabbed you. I thought Skyfire told you."

"He did," Glit admitted, and chose not to add that the ploy worked. He curled up on the berth, lowering his golden optics to the floor as unpleasant memories rose in his processor. "Lie down," he scolded Prowl. "I didn't get in this mess to watch you to tear out the patch." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker laughed as Prowl lay back down.

"Good thing you already cleared out his subspace pockets," a green mech commented as he came in, "or you might be ducking a wrench." Behind him came another black and white mech, who looked at Glit's guards and nodded to the door. They left without another word, glancing back at Glit as they went.

"I don't need a wrench," Glit sniped. "Any grunt gives me a problem, I stop and tell them go to Hook. You'd be surprised how fast they settle down." That, and no grunt wanted to get on Soundwave's bad side.  _Ever._

The two mechs smiled. "I'm Hoist, and I'm going to check you over. " He paused and his voice turned stern as he said, "Now, I'm going to take these cuffs off, and you aren't going to give me any trouble. Right?"

"Not with your head of Special Ops standing there, no." Glit remembered Jazz, and wondered why the Autobot third in command came in. With the second in command lying in the medbay, didn't he have better things to do than guard a prisoner? Besides, he was too tired to put up a useless fight. He'd spent most of the day tearing around a battlefield.

Hoist took off the cuffs, handed them to Jazz, and proceeded to give Glit a through check-up. Jazz studied Glit the entire time, which made the Decepticon medic nervous until he figured out what Jazz was looking at. "Why are you so fascinated with my forelegs?" he asked.

Hoist looked puzzled. Jazz looked away. Prowl said, "We received conflicting reports on what happened to you after you repaired Jazz. One account said your forelegs were cut off. Hoist?"

The medic put away the last of his tools. "I didn't see any indication of that," he admitted. "But Hook is a good surgeon."

Glit snorted. "He's a slagging perfectionist, but he's not that good. You'd've noticed something. " His body shifted into a defensive posture as he remembered that day. The hot sun on his plating, Megatron's huge hands holding down his forelegs as he raised a sword, and the rumble that distracted the Decepticon leader. "When the grunts realized what Megatron was about to do, they protested, all of them. He reversed the decision, ordering brig time instead." By this time he looked exactly like a frightened cat ready to strike out or run.

Jazz pulled air into his intakes and blew it out in a sigh. "Primus. Well, since I couldn't do it at the time, I thought I'd bring a thank you now while you're available." He pulled a bottle out of his subspace. The others brightened as soon as they saw what Jazz held. Hoist fetched a couple of empty cubes. Glit watched in bewilderment as Jazz poured five cubes. "Take one," Jazz invited him as Ratchet came in. Glit did. He didn't drink until the others did. His first cautious sip became a bigger drink, which he savored. It was mid-grade, but the best mid-grade he'd ever tasted.

Jazz watched as Glit sipped, taking his time. "I find it hard to believe Megatron only put you in the brig," Jazz said when Glit got through half of his cube.

"Ha. I wish," he said. Glit noticed how Jazz watched him, and didn't care. The energon left him almost as relaxed as energon wine did. He lay flat on the berth now. He noticed hazily how comfortable it was. "That was where I went, but so did a few Autobot prisoners. " He drank more of the energon. "There was a little one, he was red. And then there was a purple one. I remember how both of them cursed up a storm when the guards dragged them in. " He started to hunch up again and almost fell off the berth. "What's in this stuff?"

"It had a mild relaxant effect," Ratchet said, as Hoist caught the Decepticon. "That sounds like Cliffjumper and Huffer. I expect they gave you a hard time."

"They were cursing up a storm, yeah, but they weren't the ones that gave me a hard time. Hook did some kind of hook-up and off-lined my vocalizer before they started the interrogation." He gulped at the cube.

The Autobots looked at each other. As one, they downed their cubes. "They made you go through an interrogation second-hand," Ratchet repeated.

"With both. By the end of it, I was begging Soundwave through the comm to make it stop, that I'd do anything. Soundwave made me dock when it was over. I couldn't repair them. "He stared at the glow in his cube. Not much was left. The only sound in the room for a time consisted of their vents.

"But you still repaired me and other Autobots on the field today," Prowl said after a moment.

Glit lifted his head and looked from one to the other. His gaze lingered on Jazz. "I kept thinking they'd gone through that because of me, so there'd be no marks from the punishment. " He hissed, defiance in his golden optics. "The next day Megatron called me into his office. He told me that from now on, I'd repair the prisoners, to remind me of what I'd get if I disobeyed him again. That's when I knew what a fool I'd been. Those mechs would've gone through that anyway. They just used it to get to me. "

"Yeah," Jazz said, and the others hummed in agreement. "That's true. So you didn't stop. Aren't worried about getting caught doing it again, like this time? " They all dispersed their cubes.

"Ha," Glit gave out a hissing laugh. "You think you're the only ones who worry about that? I whine and fuss and beg not to do prisoner repairs. Megatron's satisfied he's got me under control. Soundwave tells me to set up an aid station on the battlefield and stay there, like that ever works. The other cassettes cover for me, and the grunts don't see me when I work on one of you. " He flopped on the berth, every system humming pleasantly. Pits, but this stuff was better than energon wine. He'd never felt so relaxed in his existence.

"So Soundwave knows what you're doing?" Hoist asked. "He doesn't try to stop you? I'm surprised he allows that." He moved to the other berth.

"Yeah, well, to the Pit and back with that. I'm not Hook. I'm not an engineer that gets forced into being a medic and hates it." He glared at the four listening Autobots, burning optics like melted gold. "When Soundwave and that fragging piece of purple slag Shockwave," they blinked at the hate in his voice when he mentioned Shockwave," built and programmed me to be a medic, that's what they got. It's what I do, what I am, and I'll slagging well do it my way." He finished his cube in one gulp, not seeing the shock on all their faceplates. He tried to disperse the cube, but his servos wouldn't cooperate. Hoist did it for him.

"Made you," Ratchet said. Glit went alert despite his buzz. A world of pain sounded in that voice.

"Yeah," Glit said. "Soundwave says the mech was dying, and they couldn't save him so they used his spark to make me. " He imitated Soundwave's emotionless tone. "' Glit, created from dying mech. Otherwise, waste of strong spark, needed skills. Better as cassette.'" He slumped back down and drowsed, the long day and the mild relaxant finally working.

He heard a moan and looked up blearily. Jazz and Hoist followed Ratchet out, leaving the door open. "Ratchet, what's wrong?" Hoist said. "You don't think…" he trailed off.

Glit came off the berth, falling on his feet like the felines his form resembled, and scrambled into the other room. Ratchet stood just outside the door, and Glit jumped up, putting his forelegs on the Autobot medic's chest and turning pleading eyes on him. "You know who it was!" he wailed. "Ratchet, tell me, please, I have to know, tell me who it was! Tell me who they killed to make me, please, I have to know!"

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glit gets what he wants, now what does he do with it?

Glit brooded in his cell, wavering between utter mortification and intense hope.

Ratchet broke down keening at Glit's impassioned plea. Hoist and Jazz separated them, Hoist calming the upset medic as Jazz carried a wailing Glit to the brig, petting and soothing as he went. Glit fell into recharge and woke in this cell.

In the Nemesis, the brig was dark, damp, and overall nasty with small cells. Prisoners sat alone in the dark waiting to be interrogated or punished for some time in the dark. Glit expected the same here.

The contrast of his expectation and the clean dry cell he woke to increased when he looked to see who else occupied the brig with him, and found the bars looked out to the guard station. The large red Autobot on duty turned around when Glit tentatively called out. "Well, finally awake," he said cheerfully, and turned up the lights. "Remember me?"

Glit studied him. "Laser through the leg, needed cleaning and a patch," he replied after a while.

"You got it. I'm Inferno. " He left. This was the brig? Glit knew a lot of Decepticon grunts who would gladly break a small rule to get here for some peace and quiet; the barracks tended to get loud and brawls broke out regularly.

But the quiet got to him, and he started pacing. Not long afterward, he received his first visitor. "I'm Hound," the green Autobot told him, and Glit remembered him as having a dislocated elbow joint. Hound entertained him with holographs of places on Earth he enjoyed. Soon after he left, a red and white Aerialbot wandered in and introduced himself as Fireflight. Glit remembered repairing his wing while yelling at him to hold still. Fireflight showed off several large glittery rocks and talked about how beautiful the Earth was from the sky.

One after the other, Autobots he repaired appeared. Some brought games. Some just talked for a time.

The second shift guard unnerved Glit at first; he was one of the minobots whose punishment Glit shared, and the old guilt tried to claw into him. Huffer told his prisoner, "Prowl knew a bunch of Autobots would sneak in to see you. That's why he put you here. Then he told Bluestreak, so everyone on the Ark knows. He's told everyone on guard duty that you can get all the visitors you want as long as the bars stay up." He hesitated. "I was in the security station when you were talking to Jazz and the others," he went on awkwardly. "I asked for this duty. I won't let you get away with anything, but I wanted to tell you that it wasn't your fault, what happened. "

As much as Glit knew that already in his processor, hearing it from Huffer helped that knowledge settle in his spark. He nodded, feeling as uncomfortable as the Autobot evidently felt, and asked," Bluestreak? What kind of a name is that?"

"You're about to find out," Huffer told him in a resigned voice as a blue Autobot showed up and started talking.

When Glit repaired the blue sharpshooter, Bluestreak was off-line due to a hit to his head. Now the medic listened in fascination as the Autobots started with a "Sunstreaker told me you fixed me that day on the battlefield, and I wanted to thank you," and immediately went on to talk about Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe, then high grade and so forth. He counted fifteen subject changes before the Autobot ended with, "I have patrol now, got to go."

"He's always like that?" Glit asked afterward. Huffer nodded, and told him about Bluestreak being the only one to survive in his city. For the first time, Glit thought Soundwave might be right about a spark being better in a new shell.

When Sideswipe appeared with a cube, Huffer let him in. The red frontliner also slipped Glit a familiar bottle with a wink. Glit subspaced the offering quickly before accepting the regular mid-grade. Retreating to his berth, the Decepticon medic found that the bottle did not hold his energon wine but was half-full of high grade. He poured the cube into the bottle and refilled the cube.

So when Blaster took third shift, he found Glit singing a sad Cybertronian song in his cell. "He's not bad," Huffer commented before he left. "Wish he's sing something happy, though." He stretched. "I'm for a cube."

As Huffer left, Glit stopped singing and wandered up to the bars. The feline mech ignored the carrier and peered at the lion shaped cassette. "You're Steeljaw," he observed cheerfully. "Ravage hates you."

"Really?" Steeljaw said, well aware of his Decepticon counterpart's attitude. Beside him the other cassettes started to giggle. Glit looked truly relaxed- so relaxed he listed slightly as he moved to look at the other cassettes. "Wonder why?"

"Don't feel bad, he hates almost everybody," Glit informed him. ""Cept me. He wants to 'face me. " He snorted and almost fell with the effort. "Keeps coming to the med bay, all sticky," he lifted a forepaw and made a gesture meant to convey how sticky, and flopped down. "Oops. All sticky after a fight, sometimes when I've just patched up the one he fought with, and wants to 'face. Like that's supposed to get me revved up or something. Dumb slagger." He put his chin on his forepaws and looked up at Steeljaw again. "I fixed your back leg once, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Stealjaw agreed, and settled on the other side of the bars. "Where'd you get the high grade?"

"Oh, I dunno," Glit said airily, "it just showed up all on its own," and snickered, echoed by the other cassettes. "Hey, you guys like squishy music, right?" As a group Blaster and the cassettes turned to stare at him. "What?"

"Yeah, we like human music," Blaster managed. "But how did you learn it? I thought Soundwave hated music period, especially human music, and he's kept you pretty close."

Glit sat up on his haunches and swayed. "Got left behind once. Missed retreat call. Had to hide. Knew they'd come after me, just take a while. Had my wine with me."

"Wine?"

"Can't drink high grade without diluting it. Anyways, found a cave. Squishie came, had some kind of container with ashes he threw down a cliff and came down. He had a bottle too. He come up, didn't see me, started drinking and singing. His optics leaked. I started singing with him, and he came up and sat down by me and taught me some songs. I told him if I moved wrong I might squish him and he said he didn't care, he lost his love and he had a hole in his heart. I scanned him and told him his fuel pump looked intact, and he said it was a shape of words."

Silence greeted that little monologue, until Rewind said, "I think you mean figure of speech."

"Whatever," Glit decided. "Changed his mind when Ravage showed up. Ran out screaming and leaking something that smelled awful."

"Primus," Blaster said, laughing with the cassettes, "guess he sobered up."

"Guess so." Glit flopped back down and started singing, "I am a poor, wayfaring stranger, a-wandering through this world of woe," in a soaring, glorious voice. The cassettes listened, transfixed.

Blaster opened a com to Jazz. "Buddy, you have got to hear this," he said. Jazz listened and got hold of Red Alert. A moment later, the song played in the rec room.

Spike and Carly sat on a table with Bumblebee. "Wow, that's good," Carly said. "I didn't know any Autobot was into gospel." Bumblebee whistled, sounding puzzled. "You know, human religious music. That's an old, old hymn, ' Wayfaring Stranger" is. "

Behind them, Beachcomber started laughing. "We've got a Decepticon in the brig singing human hymns," he choked out, and everyone joined him as the song ended. They snickered off and on through "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," but stayed quiet to listen.

As a result, most of the _Ark_ was listening when Glit started singing, "Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, by and by." As he sang, everyone became quiet. Then the broadcast stopped. One by one, the Autobots left the rec room, waiting until they reached the halls to start murmuring to each other.

When he ended the song, Glit said, "That one's my favorite." He produced the bottle from his subspace, and gulped. "I got something missing from my spark, too," he went on mournfully. "Soundwave knows. It's why he worries. He won't tell me who they made me from. Shockwave wouldn't tell me, that glitch. Said to be grateful I existed at all. Slagger. "

The bars went down. Steeljaw, Rewind, and Eject gathered around the Decepticon. Eject managed to get the bottle away. "So Soundwave and Shockwave used another mech to make you," Rewind said, "but they won't tell you who?"

"No," Glit said mournfully. "Just that he'd have died anyway, so it was better not to waste the spark. But if I just knew, I could figure out why I feel so empty sometimes. Soundwave says I need connections. S'why he lets Ravage pester me about 'facing." He keened. "It won't work. I'm missing something. If I knew what, I could handle it. But I don't." He keened again.

"You have no idea who it was," Eject repeated. "Could you ask around?"

"Wasn't a Decepticon," Glit said. "Asked around. Had to be someone with medical knowledge. Hook said wasn't anybody but him and maybe somebody called Vortex. Vortex died in a battle with two other gestalts." He looked blearily at Steeljaw. "Hook told me about it once, wouldn't again. Shook him up."

"Bet it did," Eject muttered softly.

"I keep wondering if it was some Neutral Shockwave found," Glit went on. "By time Shockwave got done with him, he'd want to die. I hate Shockwave," he confided and put his head down. Moments later, he stirred a little as he landed on the berth. Blaster stroked his head and he slid back into recharge.

In the morning, he slouched to the reactivated bars and sheepishly asked for some coolant from the guard. He waited while the elegant blue mech called for backup. Instead, Ratchet appeared with container in hand. "Did you get Prowl's orders, Mirage?" the Autobot medic asked. The guard nodded. "All right. I'll com you when I'm done."

The bars went down and Ratchet came in. Blue shone again, and Mirage walked down the hall, where he could see but not hear them. With a heavy sigh, Ratchet went to the berth. Glit followed and took the container. "This is speculation, you got that?" Glit nodded eagerly before gulping at the coolant. "How much do you know about the battle where Vortex died?"

"Bruticus and Defensor were fighting and Menasor brought a building down on all of them. He got Bruticus instead of the Protectobots because Defensor fell apart, but Menasor killed the Protectobots before Superion killed him," Glit recited. "Hook still gets jumpy when he talks about it. He talked about it once when he was loaded on some high grade. "He finished the coolant. Then he looked up at Ratchet with wide, pleading optics. "You'll tell me?" he asked.

"How can a feline do puppy dog eyes so well?" Ratchet wondered aloud. Then he sighed. "One of the Protectobots survived. First Aid. He was my apprentice, created to be a front-line medic. When we went to find the bodies, we never found Aid." He stroked Glit's head, his optics unseeing, remembering, mourning still. "It was terrible, not knowing. Then one of the scouts saw Soundwave carrying Aid through the space bridge. Sometime later his body was found on Cybertron."

"An Autobot," Glit murmured. "Tell me about First Aid," he wheedled. As Ratchet spoke, Glit fitted the pieces together. The aching emptiness in his spark, his spark deep need to help the hurt, his refusal to wear weapons, and even his reluctance to interface- all of it from the gentle Autobot medic.

No wonder what Soundwave worried. He didn't know what Glit might do next. Neither did Glit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the songs quoted- "Wayfaring Stranger", "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" and "Can the Circle be Unbroken" are from before 1910, and therefore in the public domain. All are folk songs/hymns/spirituals which have no known author, though many singers have recorded the songs.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Glit makes a decision

When Ratchet left, Glit trotted back to the berth and curled up to think. For all of his admittedly short existence, he wanted to know where he came from. Now he knew-and so did the Autobots. What would they do? If they made some kind of offer, what would  _he_  do?

As if in answer to that question, Jazz and Steeljaw showed up. "We're going to do some tests on your spark," Jazz said. "Nothing invasive, promise. Steelie's coming along as the closest match; they're going to look at his, too." Somewhat reassured, Glit trotted along with them. The idea of trying to run crossed his mind only to be dismissed; not only was he not any kind of spy or fighter, without his tools he was next to useless to the Decepticons anyway.

They went not to the med bay, but Wheeljack's lab, where the inventor and Perceptor placed Glit into –something. Glit listened to Wheeljack and Perceptor try to explain how it worked, and understood about one word in ten. Jazz helped Glit down and escorted him to the far corner. Glit watched as Steeljaw climbed into his place and they examined his spark as well. When the scientists finished, Steeljaw came over and stood by Glit. "Did you understand any of that?" Glit asked as the two scientists fussed over the data storage and Jazz strolled over casually.

"I don't understand the science stuff," the lion cassette said, watching the larger bots as they huddled over their paraphernalia. Then he leaned closer. "They're looking to see if the change from the gestalt to the cassette changed your spark somehow. "

"You don't lie very well," Glit observed. Steeljaw huffed at that. "Not like a Decepticon, anyway. They're looking for a way to get me away from Soundwave, aren't they? "

Steeljaw sighed. "Blaster tried to explain, but for one thing, you're a cassette head-cleaner, not a cassette. Blaster wasn't as sure about that. He just knows he can't take on another cassette, not even a head-cleaner like you. " He hesitated. "Wheeljack- he did a lot to build the Protectobots, and he was pretty close to them, closer maybe than even Ratchet was. And First Aid, he was the smallest, and –well- kind've naïve, you know? Sweet and kind and a little out of it sometimes. Mechs tended to baby him a bit. "

"Good thing I'm not much like him," Glit said with feeling. "Primus, not even Soundwave could protect him with the Decepticons. They were bad enough with me until I learned how to handle them. " He considered. "The other cassettes helped," he admitted, remembering how one of them stayed with him for quite some time until Soundwave decided he was ready to handle the med bay on his own. He remembered how Hook backed him up more than once, until the grunts accepted Glit's authority.

Perceptor and Jazz left, but Wheeljack stayed behind to put everything away. For a time Glit and Steeljaw talked as the inventor worked, but after a time they strolled over to see what he was doing. Jazz and Blaster came in to find Glit and Steeljaw curled up in Wheeljack's lap, listening to him reminisce about the Protectobots. As he spoke, his headfins flashed different colors. Glit enjoyed watching. Wheeljack rubbed his servo down Glit's spinal plates. Glit melted in his lap, a soft purr coming from him.

"You guys look cute curled up like that," Jazz drawled.

"Sure do," Blaster said. "Come on, Steelie." He knelt and opened his chestplate. Steeljaw jumped, transformed, and docked. Glit watched, his own growing need rising. Jazz and Wheeljack seemed to be talking over the com; Blaster's optics stared unseeing at the wall. Glit wondered if Soundwave looked like that when he accessed information from his cassettes in dock.

"Perceptor couldn't find anything?" Wheeljack asked. His faceplates went dull, and he hugged Glit to him. Glit sent a look to the other two. Blaster left. Jazz slid back. "I want you to stay," he whispered to Glit, and a keen broke from him. "You're all that's left of all of them. You belong with us."

"I'm not First Aid," Glit stated bluntly. He put his paws on Wheeljack's shoulders. Golden optics met blue ones. "I'm never going to be First Aid. I have his spark, yes. But First Aid was all that was left of his gestalt, am I right?"

"Yes," Wheeljack whispered. "So many died that day- most of three gestalts. We found the others under the building, but not him-not until they found his chassis on Cybertron, the spark gone-" He stopped, and another small keen escaped him.

"I have to have a bond, " Glit went on relentlessly. "Decepticons don't know much more about gestalts than you, but I know that in trines, if two die, the third will one way or another. They fight until they're killed, or suicide. If they're prevented, they just fade. They can't survive that spark-deep loss. "

"We could have helped him-"

"Wheeljack," Glit hissed, and grabbed the headfins. "Listen. For First Aid, being in a gestalt and losing all of them at once-can you imagine his pain? Even now, with a new chassis, with new programming,  _I still feel that loss_. I have to have a connection. I need Soundwave. "

Wheeljack slumped. "I hate that," he said bitterly. He stood up, carrying Glit with him. "Come here," he said. "You may as well see these. " He played holograms of a red and white mech, fairly small. Two emotions warred in Glit. He both wanted to hug the young medic and tell him everything would be fine and also wanted to smack some sense into him. He wondered how many others felt the same.

When the memories stopped, Glit looked up at Wheeljack and said, "I'm sorry you lost him, but I'm not sorry to be alive." He sighed. "Look, if I tried to change factions, I'd never be able to leave the  _Ark_. Soundwave never lets go. He'd move Cybertron and Earth from their orbits to get back what he sees as his." He licked Wheeljack's face. "This way, everyone on the battlefield looks out for me. They never know if they might be the next one I fix. "

Jazz approached from the door. "That's true, 'Jack. Think about it. Only reason he's here in the first place was to cover for him." He looked at Glit. "And you aren't kidding about Soundwave. He's arranging to trade you for every Autobot prisoner they have, and to be honest, he's starting to get a little frantic."

"I'm feeling it too," Glit admitted, not wanting to admit how much. Jazz took him back to the brig. Once there, Glit fought to keep his mind on the day's revelations, because the need to dock started needling at him hard.

He never thought his reluctant donor could be an Autobot. After all, Decepticons never stopped ridiculing the soft-sparked Autobots who protected the obviously inferior humans. But after hearing Ratchet's story, he understood Soundwave's reasoning. Soundwave told him the literal truth regarding First Aid. The little red and white medic was doomed to a long, painful deactivation, no matter what anyone did.

Why not make use of the spark and the knowledge from his processor to make a medic for the Decepticons, a cassette-form dependent on Soundwave? That ensured loyalty to the Decepticon cause, while gaining a mech sparked to be a medic and with all the needed programing available. Soundwave counted on the host-symbiote bond and hopefully a connection with Ravage to ease or replace any part of that loss. Glit remembered Soundwave's dismay when the medic he and Shockwave created still felt the echo of those bonds and begged to know why.

The next day, Jazz and Ratchet showed up with his tools. Glit rode in the medic's ambulance mode followed by Jazz, the twins, and Mirage. On the way, Ratchet told Glit, "Did anyone ever tell you that Soundwave had another cassette head-cleaner called Glit?"

"No," Glit said cautiously. They'd passed from a fairly busy highway to a gravel road on a wide, open plain, covered with a scrubby kind of grass.

"He was a medic, like you. Almost the same coloring and everything," Ratchet went on. "I knew him, back before we had factions. He died early in the war, doing what you do now. If I remember right, Soundwave took it hard." The road was getting rough. The twins flanked them now, with Jazz taking up the rear.

"He would," Glit said. "He does care about us." He braced himself as they went over a rough patch.

"When I knew him, the first Glit was kind and gentle, and he'd fix anyone that came to him if he could. First Aid reminded me of him, back then. After the war started he got bitter and sarcastic. You're not quite as bad as he got." He stopped talking as they drove over a rickety bridge. There were small trees around the small stream. Glit saw familiar forms approaching as they reached the other side of the bridge. "We know that Vector Sigma sometime brought back sparks that lived before. Sometimes I wonder if First Aid got Glit's." He stopped. "Something to think about."

"I'll do that," Glit said, as the twins and Jazz stopped beside them and transformed. On the other side of the field stood Soundwave and several Autobots. Ratchet let Glit out and transformed. The Autobots started over, moving as quickly as they could. "Go on," Jazz said.

Glit ran for his master, who knelt and opened his chest plates as his cassette head cleaner transformed and docked.

TRTRTR

Weeks later, Hook walked into the med-bay to the sound of someone singing a human song. "Who the-" he snarled, stamping into the isolation room. "Those glitches corrupted you," he grumbled, masking his relief at the familiar sight of Glit on the large berth, bottle between his servos. "Any of your fellow cassettes around?" Glit shook his head. "Looks like Soundwave finally letting you out of his sight. Stay there for a bit." He left and returned with his own high grade. "Now. Where the Pit did you get that slag?"

"Squishy the last time I got left on the battlefield,"Glit told him, and gave him the story. Hook snickered. "Autobots hated it," the feline medic added cheerfully. "Made them feel bad, reminded them of their dear departed baby gestalt." He saw the look on Hook's face and howled with laughter. "What, did you think they wouldn't tell me?"

"So now you know." Hook said, "Make any difference?" Glit nodded. The ache might never go away, but knowing what it was helped him deal with it. "I'm surprised they let you go."

"Yeah," Glit said. "They didn't want to. Wheeljack 'specially kicked up a fuss. "The feline medic blew air through his vents. "But they didn't have a choice, not if I was going to stay sane."

"Yeah, well, since you know, I might as well tell you something else," Hook said, take a sip of his high-grade. "You aren't the first Glit." He told same story Ratchet did, then leaned back to look at the ceiling, and added, "I've wondered, before, if that little Autobot got his spark. Be ironic if he did, wouldn't it?"

Glit considered, and took another swig. "Sounds like the story of my life," he said.

Irony that a compassionate medic was better off with the Decepticons, because that way he could treat anyone on the battlefield that needed him. Irony, that both sides looked out for him. Ironic, in that both the senior medics from each faction told the same story with the same speculations. Irony, that he might have the spark of Soundwave's lost cassette.

Yep. That sounded like his life.

He could deal with that.

 


End file.
